Ethan
Fiona’s fear let off a bitter smell, but it wasn’t as pungent as before. The longer we sit here talking, the calmer she grows, even as she asks to see my wolf. However, the smell still leaves a sick, nauseous feeling in my stomach.
She didn’t need to admit it for me to know, but I liked that she did. She at least trusts me enough to tell me what she’s feeling, which is a good step toward accepting what’s growing between us.
“She wants to meet me,” my wolf purrs happily. I chuckle at his excitement, but hold him back. I can’t have him bursting forth and scaring her more than she already is. That wouldn’t do either of us any good.
“I won’t,” he grumbles. “I’ll be slow.”
I try to see this from her view, how scary it could be learning a whole world is out there that only a selec
